Mortal Magick

by Patty Taylor

  She tried hard to smile before a dark shade clouded her eyes and darkness settled in.

  Duncan watched as Keara’s pupils rolled to the back of her head. All he could see was the whites of her eyes before her head slumped to the side and she passed out. ‘Twas best she wasna awake.

  Her body didn’t budge as the sharp blade of his knife cut through her clothes. Blood stained the back of her top. He tossed the garments aside knowing the barbs would spread like wildfire and stick to everything they touched. Her head slumped on his chest as he leaned her on her side. He needed to find what had caused all the blood.

  A small shiny arrow was sticking out of the center of her back. The thin rod was coated with a slimy green-and-purple paste.

  Poison. If he didn’t act fast, she’d die for certain.

  He reached for his knife and gripped the slippery rod between the blade and his thumb and wrenched it from her flesh. Her wound, wide open and raw, was filled with black blood.

  Making a poultice of mud and fresh ferns, he packed the wound the best he knew how and went to work removing the rest of the nettles. Scooping small amounts of the sludge with his fingers, he dabbed the dressing across her entire body. He smoothed the mud into thick layers. He’d have to wait until it dried before running another shale rock over her skin to help remove the rest of the embedded hairs.

  Her body trembled as he washed off the remaining dirt caked on her skin. Using lush green leaves to fashion a ladle, he poured water over her scalp to rinse any needles and debris from her hair. He needed to get her back in front of the fire. He stood and unwrapped his woolen plaid from his waist and swaddled it around her shivering frame. With no time to waste, he bundled her in his arms and ran.

  Without a doubt, this would be a long night. This was one time he wished Darby were here. His friend always had some kind of concocted potion he’d made from roots and leaves. He’d know how to tend to the puncture wounds.

  Duncan picked up his water skin and poured water on a piece of linen and laid it across her sweaty forehead. She was burning with fever. The poison was rapidly spreading through her body. She squirmed and pushed off the sheepskin. Her arms flailed in the air as she called out for Samson and Beth. He lowered her arms and pushed them back under the pelt, tucking it under her chin.

  The name “Dennis” and the word “wedding” escaped from Keara’s lips as she muttered in her sleep. Samson hissed, flicking his tail back and forth. Her body began tossing and turning. Duncan held on to her arms, amazed at her strength when her clenched fists popped out of both sides of the sheepskin. This time she called out for Colin.

  The light from the full moon shadowed the ground. There was no way he could leave her now. But his body twisted in pain. A growl rumbled in his throat and his head lurched back. His fingers lengthened and talons sprung from the tips. His trembling hands jerked back to his sides.

  He stared down at her frail, weakened body and thought of her spirited temper from mere hours before. If there was the slightest chance he could help her, then he must try at least.

  He rolled her onto her stomach. The beast’s nostrils flared at the sight of the naked flesh sprawled in front of his knees. He bent and lowered his palm to her wound. Her body squirmed at his touch, and she cried out in pain. Frightened he might have hurt her, he raised his head and placed his hands on his hairy legs. He stared at her back. A green gel bubbled out of her wound and dripped to the ground, sizzling.

  Fresh red blood trickled from the open gash, and Keara moaned. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. The swelling went down in her face. He watched in awe as the hideous blisters turned from ugly boils to small goosebumps. The natural marks from the nettles he knew would heal within time.

  He gazed at her delicate face and wondered how she ever got here. He resisted the urge to take her in his arms and hold her. She muttered words he couldn’t understand. He knelt by her side and leaned his head closer. Her arms sprang up and wrapped around his arm. He froze, fear clutching his chest. Her breathing steadied, and her body settled after several minutes. Content she was sound asleep, he laid down and wrapped his arm around her. She sighed and cuddled her head against his neck.

  He peered at the stars and knew he must do everything possible to keep her safe until he could figure out a way to get her back home, no matter what the cost. ‘Twas only one witch spiteful enough to do something like this to Keara. The evil bitch, Gabrielle. What did she have against this woman? Perhaps she was afraid the lass’ power was greater than her own.

  He’d waited ten years for his chance to cure this curse, but he’d already lost several days on his journey. This meant they’d have to push hard to catch up. He wasn’t sure whether Keara could withstand the rough haul ahead. Perhaps the warrior women from the Ban-Gaisgedaig could help Keara as well. Known for their bravery and wisdom, they might know of a way to get Keara back home. Even if it meant losing this woman to another man called Dennis.

  “Mo creach! Just what do ye suppose I do with ye now, woman?”

  Keara snuggled her head on his chest. With a contented sigh, she whispered his name. A smile softened her chapped lips.

  An orange globe peeked over the glorious mountains. At first light, from the fresh break of dawn, Duncan staggered backward and watched Keara from a safe distance. His body was jerking out of control, his limbs distorted while he transformed back into his human form. It had been a long night, and he was anxious for something good and hot to drink.

  “U-Uncle, we’re back.”

  Chapter 14

  Duncan turned, watching Darby puffing, his short legs shuffling alongside Colin, trying his best to keep up. The lad carried an enormous sack over his shoulder. Darby donned a wide grin on his face, lugging a few of his own bundles.

  “From the looks of it, ye shoulda’ taken Goliath with ye to carry everythin’. Did ye end up buyin’ out the village?” He chuckled, pleased to see them back safe and appearing happy. “I didna’ think I gave ye money enough to buy that much, from the looks of how heavy those bags are.”

  “Aye, we bought everything on yer list and then some, Uncle.” Colin grinned and plopped the bundle down in front of his feet. The lad spied Keara, bolted, and dropped on his knees to the ground beside her.

  “I-Is she—?” he questioned, his eyes wide with fear.

  “Nay, lad. She’s fine. Gave me a good scare, but she just needs some rest. We’ve both had a hard night.” Duncan yawned. He’d certainly appreciate a good nap right about now since he’s been spending his nights without sleep roaming the countryside as a monster.

  Darby hobbled quickly to Keara’s side, a frown on his face. He leaned over her body and sniffed. “She’s lucky to be alive. Whatever you did, you did it in the nick of time, me friend. By the looks of it, ye had a rough night and ye’re be needin’ a wee break. Go on with ye and rest a bit. Colin and I will keep an eye on her ‘til ye return.”

  Glad for the chance to be able to stretch his cramped legs, he decided to take Darby up on his offer. Now that Darby was back, he’d help make sure nothing happened to her.

  “I’ll be right back, Colin. I need to speak to yer uncle.” Darby’s fingers grabbed Duncan’s hand, leading him several feet away so Colin wouldn’t hear. Darby’s fingertips motioned for Duncan to lean over while the wee codger whispered loud enough for his keen ears to hear.

  “I see the witch set another trap for the lass. I hope ye know ye canna be sendin’ her and the boy back alone. Not after this. By the looks of it, the bloody witch is determined to get rid of her newest threat—Keara. She’ll stop at nothin’ now to keep ye from yer cure or until ye agree to wed her wicked soul.”

  “Nay. ‘Twill be a cold day in Hades before I marry the likes of her. Besides, I know Keara willna be safe anymore, even if I do send her and Colin back to stay with me sister. I’m afraid ye
’re all in danger now because of me. Even ye, Darby.”

  “Och, The witch doesna frighten me. Besides, I’m much older and wiser than her. She’s not worried about a cantankerous old brownie such as meself. Now off with ye, and get some rest. Colin and I will keep watch over the lass. I’ll send the lad to fetch ye right before supper. Ye needna be worryin’ about meat for tonight. We have more than enough to fill our stomachs and then some.”

  “Darby, I want to thank ye. I’m not sure how I would have managed these past few days without yer help. Duncan handed him a tin flask filled with whiskey. Are ye sure Colin got everything on the list ye asked for?”

  “Thank ye, lad. Aye, and then some.” Darby grinned, taking a long swig from the flask. “Och, ‘tis nothin' like savorin’ the taste of Scotland’s own delicious nectar.”

  Darby wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled, tucking the flask safely inside his coat. His friend proceeded to grab a gnarled pipe from his pocket, rapping the knotty barrel in his palm before shoving it in his mouth. The dwarf swiveled on his worn leather soles and hobbled back to a soundly sleeping Keara. He placed his hand on her forehead, nodded, apparently satisfied, and made his way over to Colin, now occupied with petting Samson.

  Darby chattered away, undoubtedly sharing yet another one of his adventurous tales with the lad. Duncan stood, stretching his arms above his head, before strolling toward the woods. Colin’s enthusiastic laughter echoed overhead.

  Duncan leaned against a towering pine and closed his eyes, grateful for some time alone. The possibility of facing another obstacle even mightier than his curse crossed his mind. Keara was going to be a problem.

  “Uncle, come quick,” Colin screamed.

  Duncan jerked and bolted from the woods. His heart raced, chest clenched tight. He spied Darby leaning directly over Keara’s face, pushing his glasses higher on his nose, and studying her. The old codger tilted his head and smiled. “I think she’s startin’ to come around.”

  Keara’s eyes sprang open. Her lips parted. And she screamed.

  Keara caught her pale reflection in a thick pair of round lenses, perched on top of a mushroom-shaped nose. An ivy vine entwining the bridge piece clasped the lopsided spectacles together. Arched brows, salmon in color, rippled across his forehead like a pair of bushy caterpillars. His rounded plump cheeks bore the resemblance of a chipmunk. He grinned, exposing one shiny gold front tooth and what resembled a solid wooden tooth propped right beside it.

  It was obvious. Her reaction appeared to amuse the little man.

  She jolted. Sitting upright, she found herself unable to take her eyes away from the eccentric character. The top of his brightly colored head barely towered above her own. Variegated ivy leaves sprouted beneath an unruly mass of carrot-orange hair, creating a trail across the pointed tip of his left ear, while spiraling down the back of his shoulder.

  Keara blinked and rubbed her eyelids. His sparkling jade eyes stared back and winked at her, right after she noticed the tiny inchworm perched on the top rim of his glasses.

  “I see ye’ve managed to get yerself in some trouble.” His hand disappeared inside a frayed pocket of his worn jacket and removed an iridescent pinecone-shaped vial, which he cradled in his knobby fingers. He twisted off the fancy top and offered it to her. “Here, lass, drink this. It should help stop the pain.”

  She hesitated before accepting his tonic. Her shaky fingers tightened around the peculiar vial. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Och, ‘tis nothing.” His rustic cheeks puckered, blushing red. “‘Twas a good thing Duncan was there and knew how to remove those thistles. Ye’re a lucky lass, ye werna paralyzed. I’m afraid someone poisoned the barbs.”

  “You must mean the same person that tried to hurt Colin.” She sniffed the rim of the bottle, smelling something like cooked cabbage, and scrunched her face before taking a sip of the bitter concoction.

  “Aye, I can guarantee it was the bloody sorceress.” Duncan’s scowl disappeared when he studied her. He winked and nodded, encouraging her to drink the rest of the medicine.

  She shuddered, struggling to swallow the thick liquid that coated her mouth as it oozed down her throat. Warmth spread through her body, the pain immediately beginning to subside.

  Duncan pulled a large woolen bundle in front of himself and reached inside. He retrieved a small leather pouch and tossed it to Darby, grinning. “I thought ye never wanted Colin to find out ye was followin’ him. What made ye change yer mind?”

  “Well ye didna’ leave me much choice. The lad was havin’ a hard enough time dealing with the meddlesome old hag as it was.” Darby glanced in her direction and tipped his woolen cap. “No offense, lass. I meant to say ‘the curious old soul.’”

  That’s funny. She could have sworn he wasn’t wearing a hat just minutes before.

  The fairytale type character averted his attention back to Duncan. “What an insufferable, nosey busy-body, she was. Not only did she give Colin a hard time, but she refused to sell him any tobacco or spirits. So I felt it only necessary to step in and introduce meself as his granddad.”

  “Darby, please tell me ye didna’ use yer mischievous charms on the woman.” Duncan grinned and raised his eyebrows.

  A devilish smile crossed the old man’s face. Darby sniffed the pouch, his nose twitching. His eyes gleamed, while his pudgy fingers struggled to untie the strings. “It probably did the old woman some good to have someone pay attention to her. Maybe a wee bit of my charm rubbed off and will help her be less irritable. Besides, everyone was actin’ overly suspicious.”

  With a deep sigh, he placed the freed string on his lap and shoved his pipe inside the bag. “The villagers appeared to be leery of strangers. ‘Twas plenty of rumors stirrin’ inside the pub.”

  The scowl returned to Duncan’s face. He glanced toward the thick row of trees before reaching back inside the sack. He pulled out several wrapped linens and handed them to her. A minty scent drifted beneath her nose.

  “Colin, I need ye to fetch some fresh water to boil. I’m sure Keara would enjoy a tin of fresh tea.”

  Keara began opening the linens. The scent of fresh bread, honey, cheese, and shortbread cookies made her empty stomach growl. She was starting to feel better, mainly knowing Colin was back safe and sound.

  While the four of them sat and ate in silence, she couldn’t help but notice the exchanged glances between Duncan and Darby. She wondered what the two were up to. No way was she going to stay behind. Not now. There were far too many questions she needed answers to.

  Darby chuckled, distracting her attention back to the strange little man. She studied him leaning back on the middle of a stump resting. His stout fingers tapped across the front of a flask clutched to his chest, while his other hand rearranged the tobacco pouch and container of honey sitting next to him.

  She couldn’t help but like the little man. No matter how odd his appearance. Or more importantly, what he was. By far, Darby was not an ordinary human. She could sense the trust and admiration Duncan held for his friend. And that was good enough for her.

  Samson sat beside her, swishing a swollen, bushy tail. His attention centered on Darby’s head. Keara spotted a small black nose poke through a few disarrayed curls. A tiny paw emerged, swatting the air. Samson crouched, ready to pounce.

  Keara jerked, wrapping her arms around the cat’s body, cuddling him to her chest and petting his neck.

  Rather spry for his size, Darby sprinted and stood next to her and rubbed Samson’s head. He handed the agitated feline a piece of catnip from inside his coat, which diverted his attention.

  She detected the cap, not to mention the strange black nose and tiny paws, had suddenly disappeared from Darby’s head.

  Must be that medicine making me hallucinate . . .

  Darby hobbled over to Colin and p
ointed toward Duncan’s horse. Colin nodded, smiled, and headed behind Goliath, grabbing another sack from behind the saddle bag. Carrying a bundle in each hand, Colin’s long legs strode over the side of a moss-covered bank and out of sight.

  “I’m thinkin’ ye might like to freshen up a wee bit. ‘Tis only if ye’re feeling up to it.”

  Duncan’s deep voice startled her. She turned her attention to the Highlander and noticed Darby standing beside him grinning. Like a pair of guilty children hiding something, she assumed they were sharing a secret.

  The very thought of getting a bath and washing her hair lifted her spirits. She swore she’d never take her small bathroom in Maryland for granted ever again. She’d even relish the sight of a toilet scrub-brush right about now.

  “Yes, please.” She stood, her upper body swaying.

  Duncan grabbed her by the arms to steady her.

  Like a small electrical shock, tingling sensations raced through her body from his touch. She braced herself against his chest for several minutes, inhaling his musk scent. Once she managed to stand on her own, she stepped back from his embrace, with a twinge of disappointment.

  “Might be a good idea to wait ‘til after ye get more of yer strength back.” Worry wrinkles creased his forehead.

  “No, really, I’m fine.” Even cold water would be better than no bath at all right now. “I’ll feel much better once I get some of this dirt and grime washed off.”